


Fool For Sacrifice

by lesbianoodle



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Humanstuck, Implied Sexual Content, Inspired by Music, Lesbian Character of Color, Passive-aggression, Terezi Isn't Blind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-08-07 18:29:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7725139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianoodle/pseuds/lesbianoodle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You tell her that your Mom used to stroke your hair. She asks if she should stop. You say no.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fool For Sacrifice

She sits next to you on the bus every single day. She reads her comics. You stare jealously at the glossy pages over her shoulder and wish that you could afford to buy the huge stacks of comics that she has. Your sister, Latula, takes you to the comic book store every single week but you're only ever allowed to buy one at a time. The girl on the bus has ten new ones a week. She has all the comics. All of them. And you're jealous of her. 

You see her around school. She always has her Walkman plugged into her ears and she's humming songs that your sister plays on the radio for you every night but she's humming them off-key and snapping her fingers out of time. And she thinks that she looks so cool when she does this, leaning against the lockers, but you think she looks like a total idiot. You still wish that you could borrow the tape of new songs she keeps in her Walkman. You've seen the cassette and you know she made it herself because it's decorated with tiny spiders. _Number Eight: Songs For The Summer_. 

You sit by her in one class, math, and you copy her flawless work into your notebook and you don't even feel guilty about doing it. You're no good at math, you're absolutely terrible, and she's so good. And maybe that's cheating but she's a bad person. She's a bad person because she spends half of math flicking cinnamon flavoured gum at Tavros Nitram with her ruler and because you've seen her beat him up after school so you're allowed to copy her math. You try not to feel guilty about it and you fail because she seems to love you copying her work. 

She pushes the work towards you, making sure you can see all the neatly printed numbers inside their little boxes, and makes sure you know she can see you. And you don't know if it's intended as passive aggressive warfare but you copy it down anyway. When the bell rings, you shut your notebook and go to your locker, confused about why the girl you hate sends your heart fluttering in your chest. You're a fighter for justice... You believe that everything should be fair and equal... You shouldn't fall for a stereotypical bad girl. A rule breaker. It's not right. 

On the bus, she always sits in the window seat even though that's your favourite seat. After a few days of her letting you copy willingly, you decide to arrive early and snatch the seat by the window. You sit there and stare out of the window, wondering if she'll say anything. She arrives fresh from whatever class she just ditched with the smell of cinnamon gum and sits in the aisle seat, though she doesn't look happy about it. She unzips her bag and pulls her comics out, dropping a stack of them on your lap. You blink at them, unsure of what's happening. 

You notice there's a smirk on her face. Passive aggressive really isn't your style. But the meanest girl in school, the one that trips Karkat Vantas and beats up Tavros Nitram and pulls Feferi Peixes's hair and mocks Nepeta Leijon, is seemingly being nice to you. And something about that doesn't click into place. So, you take her comics home with you and study them closely, drinking in every single word and making sure you won't forget them. Then, you take your scented markers and desecrate the beautiful pages. 

The next day, you hand them back and her eyes widen a little. 

You have gym first period so you get changed in the locker rooms, wishing you had your period so you could sit on the bench instead, and leave your clothes out on the bench. You run and jump and hurdle and sweat through your shirt, completely unaware that she's watching you from where she's sitting on the bleachers. She yells encouragement, a glint in her eye, and you want to kill her. Nepeta Leijon asks what she is doing here and you say you don't know. But it's hard to make a convincing argument when she is yelling your name. 

In the locker room, you find your clothes gone. Some of her clothes are lying there instead, things that you would never wear, things are tight and short in all the right kinds of places. A shirt that buttons up like a boys and a miniskirt that barely brushes the tops of your thighs and blue socks printed with black spiders. She's found a pair of blue sneakers in your size somewhere with the laces removed and with no other choice, you put the clothes on and vow to do something just as inspired as this. Because you're rivals now, no escaping it. You hate that the clothes aren't actually ugly. 

The bus home and she's listening to her Walkman again and you're reading over your pages and pages of roleplay logs that you and Nepeta Leijon wrote during American History. Neither of you will ever know about John Adams, the most irrelevant president, but you both know your characters inside out. That's your cover at least, in case she glances at you. 

In the back of your notebook, you plot carefully how you plan to switch her clothes like she did with yours. You know she has gym third period on Fridays because you can spy her out of the window if you squint hard enough. With her tanned skin and her blue hair, she's not exactly the hardest person to spot as she races around the track. She's competitive. She's determined to win at everything, even your little game with her, which makes her an awful lot like you. You like to win. But unlike her, you like to win fair and square.

She must know you have something planned on Friday because she puts her bag on the aisle seat and doesn't move it even when you clear your throat. The bus driver is yelling at you to sit down so you sit next to Karkat Vantas and he tells you that he misses you at church. You and him both know that the only reason either of you go/went to church is because of your individual parents. Now that your mom is dead, you don't have to go to church anymore. It also means that you feel lonely, like the flowers growing inside your ribs have died. 

You suppose you don't talk much about your mom. You want to forget about it. But you can't. 

During third period, you use your bathroom pass to excuse yourself and you sneak into the girls' locker rooms, looking around for her clothes. They're stacked neatly next to her bag because compared to you, she's neat as neat can be. You have the replacement clothes in your bag that you're going to switch them with but before you can, you have a strange thought. And you place your bag on the ground and pick up her clothes, studying them carefully. They're daring, outrageous, like she wants to be. And you change your plan. 

Slowly, you strip down to just your underwear and your bra, standing there with most of your skin exposed to anybody that could walk in at that moment. You pick up her shirt and button it up, sealing your skin in her clothing. And you pick up her sweater, the sweater that she's cut the neck off and ripped out the stitches along the sides so that it's beginning to unravel, and pull it over your head. You straighten out your collar and wear her worn out pants, your fingers tracing the patterns that she's burnt into the legs of her pants with a lighter. Blacked lines and dots. 

Her sneakers don't fit so you keep your own. Instead of leaving behind the hideous clothes that you had picked out, you leave the clothes that you wore to school today and you leave the locker room before you can get anymore stupid ideas. Just thinking about her gets you worked up and the idea of her changing in here, the idea of her standing in her underwear like you were just moments ago, makes your palms clammy with sweat. You walk fast, back to your debate class, where everybody notices your change in clothes and everybody asks if you and her were busy under the bleachers in disguised whispers. 

You just grin at them, letting them think whatever you want. 

On the bus, she asks you if you're really captain of the debate team and if the team is looking for any fresh talent. You flip your phone closed, leaving your message to your sister half-finished, and look at her curiously. You don't know why she'd be interested in the debate club at all. Everybody knows that the debate club is for nerds and she's the kind of person that likes kicking dirt in the faces of nerds. But you tell her that it's always open for members anyway because the thought of spending lunch with her makes your face feel very warm. 

She doesn't say anything for the rest of the ride home, though she gets her notebook out and pretends she's not interested in you, printing careful letter after letter. When she gets off at her stop, you notice that she's left some more comics behind for you. You push them deep into your bag and close your eyes tightly. Karkat Vantas taps you on the shoulder and asks what the fuck is wrong with you, you fucking weirdo. You shake your head. At the next stop, you stand and sidle your way down the aisle, jumping down onto the sidewalk. Water from the rain splashes up and soaks your legs up to the knees. 

You walk the long way home, in the rain, trying to straighten your mind out. 

By Monday, you're sure that she's messing with you and nothing else. All thoughts of kissing her, touching her, being with her have been buried deep in a vault where you won't happen upon them again. Why would she want to spend time with you anyway? Everybody always leaves you. You catch the bus and sit by Karkat Vantas instead, forcing his friend to sit beside her so you don't have to. And you talk to him about his classes and his homework and how things are going at the church. You notice his eyes bearing into his friend and he's barely paying attention to you, just nodding and saying "uh-huh". You don't say anything about it. 

At lunchtime, sure enough, she shows up to the debate club meeting. But she's late and you're already talking about how to fill out your flows so that you can make a convincing argument. She strides over and takes the empty seat that you already had your jacket slung over the back of the chair. You take a new seat and everybody starts writing but you can't concentrate because you keep looking at her. You're up against her in a practice debate and you mumble and fumble your words and can't focus on what you're doing. She smirks at you. You hate it when she looks at you like that. It makes you hot and sweaty. 

She debates flawlessly and you hate her for it, hate that she makes you look like a complete mess in front of your entire club. You pitch in quickly, making several rebuttals before she can even finish her points. And before long, you're nose to nose with her and both of you are talking and talking and talking and all you can think about it how easy it would be to kiss her right now. Then, she grabs you by the arm and you become suddenly aware of everybody else in the club staring at you like they're watching a soccer game. You take several steps back, dismiss the club, and everybody is in a rush to leave. Everybody except her, of course. 

She pretends that she's picking up her things extra slow so she can hang back and talk with you. You do the same, shuffling the paper that has been left behind before ditching it all in the trashcan anyway. And you walk over to her, slow, so you can study her expression. 

You tell her that you hate her. 

She says that she knows. She says you're a loser.

And then, her hand is on you're lower back and your nose is pressed up against yours. Slowly, like you're dancing, you push her up against the nearest desk and she leans until her back is resting against the top of it. Steadying yourself, you straddle her lap and rest your knees on top of the desk. And she mumbles something you don't catch and then, you can taste her black lipstick in your mouth and you're freaking out because you have no idea what you're doing. But you feel like you're swimming, not drowning, and your hands are exploring her curiously. You push her shirt up so that you can see her bra and it's bright blue like her hair. 

But then, there's a knock at the door and you both scramble away from each other and you're wiping her lipstick off your mouth and she's pulling her shirt back into place. Her face is flushed darker than you've ever seen it and her glasses are crooked on her face. You get the door and there's a freshman looking for their math class. You point them in the right direction and realise that you must have missed the bell for end of lunch. She squeezes past you in the doorway, her bag banging against her hip, and you stare at her for a moment too long. Then, you go to your American History class and try to think about boys. 

She's a regular at your debate club after that, though she doesn't hang around afterwards anymore but slips away before you can even realise that she's gone. You go back to your feuding and passive aggression and pretending you never kissed her. But you spy on her whilst she's in gym class and realise that she's really, really pretty. Long legs, long hair, curves in the right places. You wonder why she kissed you. You're not as pretty. 

Karkat Vantas confronts you one lunchtime while you're eating your lunch and demands to know why you're buddying up with the same girl that likes to call him a homo and push him in the halls. You didn't even know she used the word homo on people but it makes your face burn. Then, he pushes you hard in the chest. You stumble. He looks angry but guilty about it. There are people staring at him and at you and you catch her gaze from across the room. So, you push him back and tell him you can be friends with whoever you want. And he says you can't, not if you want to sit at their table. You tell him you don't want to sit there. And he says fine. 

And you walk away and finish eating your lunch in the girls' bathroom on the second floor. You shut yourself in one of the cubicles and lean against the wall of it, eating even though you're not hungry. When you hear the bathroom door swing open, you guess it's just some person. But you recognise her sneakers under the stall door. 

You ask why she's been calling people homos. She says 'cos they are. And you ask if she is because she kissed you the other day and that seemed pretty fucking homo to you. She tells you that yes, maybe, she thinks she might be but don't make a big deal out of it. You say that you think you might be too. And she sticks her hand under the stall door and you hold it. 

Another day, another math class, but she doesn't let you copy her work anymore. She doesn't tell you the answers but she pushes you in the right direction of them, showing you how to write the equations in your notebook. It makes sense when she says it. When you've written half a page of work done, she digs around in her bag and pulls out some kind of pencil case. She unzips it and the kind of make-up your sister used to wear is hidden in there. She smears a lipgloss across her lips so that they look shiny and dark. She spritzes her wrists with perfume and then does yours too. You've never worn perfume before. Your wrists smell like her. 

She asks if you don't wear make-up because you're a homo. You consider this. You tell her you don't wear make-up because you never really thought about it before. She asks if your Mom wears make-up. You tell her you can't remember. Then, you have to leave the class and stand outside until you don't feel like you're crumbling anymore. 

On the bus home, she lets you use her Walkman and you let her punch her number into your cellphone. She's surprised that you have a cellphone because hardly anyone in your grade does but you tell her your sister got it for you. You hum along the songs that you've heard her hun a million times before and she asks you if your sister lives with you. You tell her that she moved out a couple of weeks back and lives faraway now. When she gets off the bus, she tells you that you can borrow her Walkman because this cassette is for you anyway. 

You walk the long way home again. The air is good at clearing your head. 

Every year, the debate team has a field trip to the city over for a debate tournament. This year is no different and the trip is taking place in two weeks time- she comes to you and asks if she can share a room with you, since they're same sex. You tease her and tell her that she's lucky to be on the trip at all, since she only just joined the team. But that's a yes. You're hoping that you're going to get to kiss her again and hopefully not be interrupted this time. As the date draws closer and closer, you get more and more excited about the prospect of a weekend sharing a room with her. You pray she's not just pranking you because it would hurt too much. 

She sits next to you on the bus for the field trip, letting you take the window seat that you love so much and sitting sideways with her long legs dangling over her seat and getting in the way of people in the aisle. She leans back and rests her head against you, her long hair tickling you. You comb your fingers through it and she stares at you like you're the only person in the world. You grin to yourself and ignore Nepeta Leijon staring at you from the seat across the aisle. She hasn't spoken to you since you stopped sitting on the same lunch table as her. 

You distract yourself from Nepeta Leijon by popping open the borrowed Walkman and slipping in the tape that your sister sent you as a late birthday present. It has your name scrawled across it and has all the best songs that your sister loves and that you love and your Mom used to love. You hook the headphones onto her ears and play the songs for her, enjoying the way her smile lights up her face. You're not sure you've ever seen her smile properly at you before. But she seems to like it when you let her in. 

When you get to the hotel, you get to settle into your hotel rooms and you exchange wicked smiles with her as you grab the keys. Teacher escorting the trip says that rooms have to be single sex so that nobody gets any ideas but that just makes your grin widen. Suitcases thumping against the ground behind you, you run with her at your side, taking the stairs about four at a time. You unlock the room with the key and dump your belongings beside the bed nearest the window before spinning around and finding her already standing there. She's left her suitcase pushed up against the door, just to be safe. Your hands slide around her and you stand on tip toes so that you can reach her lips, pulling her backwards. 

You feel the bed against the back of your knees and trust yourself to fall, pulling her down with her. Your lips break apart and she laughs gently, her body pressing against yours on the bed. You wrap your arms tightly around her and keep her close, tasting the cinnamon gum on her breath and forgetting that you need breath for a minute. She's clearly done this before with somebody because she knows what she's doing. She's good, better than anything you've ever seen in movies, but maybe that's because she's a girl. You're not sure you've even see a girl do it with a girl on TV before. You're not sure you've even seen a girl kiss a girl on TV.

She asks if it's your first time and you can barely talk because you're breathless and needy, clinging to her like she's the only thing in a world. She shows you what to do and you're surprised that she doesn't get bored of waiting for you. While you're learning, she asks you if you've ever done it with a boy before. Between kisses, you tell her about Karkat Vantas in your sophomore year and she wrinkles her nose. She tells you about the boys and the girls and you think she's making some of it up but who cares? She's so much better than Karkat ever was. You end up seeing stars and you lie, gasping, on the bed. All your muscles feel exhausted and your mind is buzzing like static on a TV. 

Tired, you don't move for a long time after that and lie there wondering if that's what it's meant to feel like. Because it was wonderful, fantastic, whimsical and you don't remember feeling like this with Karkat. Once you can breathe again, you ask Vriska if you're going to get pregnant. She laughs at you but doesn't look sure, as she considers it. She shakes her head and you're reassured. You ask her about her first time and she tells you about a girl at another school called Kanaya Maryam. The whole time, she's stroking your hair and it's reassuring to have her hands touching your hair. It reminds you of your Mom. You're so tired that you cry a little. She asks if you're okay and you remember how you bled the first time and check this time. Everything looks okay down there. 

You tell her that your Mom used to stroke your hair. She asks if she should stop. You say no. 

Then, in a burst of frenzy, you tell her about how your Mom used to spend all her time with you but she got swallowed up by a work. She was a lawyer which is basically a superhero, you tell her, but she started working too hard. She didn't spend as much time with you anymore and worked late, which was why you weren't surprised when she didn't come home one night. But the cops showed up and told you there had been an accident. You got to see her in hospital, right before she died, and you still have nightmares about it. You tell her about how you lived with your sister since then but your sister's gone away to college now. You tell her about how people are always leaving you behind. 

She holds you until you feel better and then, she helps you shower in the adjoining bathroom because your body is only just waking up now. She strips off her bra and steps into the shower with you and your every nerve is excited because she's naked next to you. Afterwards, you both get dressed quickly in your nicest clothes and get ready to debate as if nothing had happened in your hotel room. She holds your hand until you reach the lobby. 

The debating is easy. The sharing a bed with her is much harder. There's nowhere near enough room in either of your single beds for both of you to squeeze in, so you have to push both your beds together so that you can share. She's so beautiful and she only sleeps in her underwear so you don't mind sleeping with your arms wrapped around her from behind. You press your face into her hair, which she's let loose around her shoulders and curls across the pillows. Her skin is cold and her feet tickles against yours but you honestly don't care. 

Saturday is much less eventful as you're both knocked out of the tournament by those rich kids that go to private schools and decide to celebrate your failure by getting lunch at the diner down the street. The rest of your team are going to a fancy meal but Nepeta Leijon's eyes keep burning through you like she can see your homo hiding underneath your skin. You can't break your eyes away from Nepeta Leijon's sharp gaze as you lie about not feeling too well. You go back to the hotel room feeling guilty but she makes you feel better about it, kissing you softly. 

You spend the evening eating greasy food that will probably make you feel unwell for good. But it's worth it because it tastes good and she looks beautiful with her Walkman somehow shared between the two of you and fries between her fingers like cigarettes. 

Sunday morning is when you're due to go home but you wake up next to her and you can't resist kissing her one last time before you have to leave. Your hands explore all the parts of her that you're slowly starting to become familiar with. Her hair keeps falling in her face so she has to tie it up out of the way and you can't help admiring the way it sticks to her face with sweat and the flushed colour playing on her cheeks as she kisses you. This time, you manage to unclip her bra on the first try and tug it free. She high-fives you in celebration because Friday night, it took you twelve and a half attempts. You don't need as long to recover this time and thank god because you're late to the bus already. 

When you get to the bus, people are in your seats and the two of you have to separate because there are no spaces left together. You sit next to Nepeta Leijon and ignore her curious questions about why you're late and what you've been doing. For most of the ride back to school, you sit in silence and don't talk to her. But she asks if you've still got your book full of roleplays and you have, so you pull it out of school bag, which you brought to carry all the things that didn't fit inside your suitcase. The two of you pour over it and you get off the bus feeling like you're not so friendless anymore. You walk home alone because everybody's else's parents pick them up.

You have a math class on Monday before lunch and you sit next to her like you always do. Thanks to her tutoring, you're flying through the math problems too and you're finished before lunch even starts. Debate club has been cancelled today, since everybody is still tired from the field trip and you deserve a break, and she knows it. But she asks if you're busy anyway and you tell her that you don't think you are. She asks if you want to ditch with her and you consider your perfect record for a moment before remembering that you have nobody to show that record too. Your mom's dead, your sister's at college; who's going to ground you? 

During lunch, you both sneak off school grounds and head back to your apartment because there's nobody there. She asks how come you haven't got in trouble for living alone and you tell her that's it 'cos nobody knows about it. But people must know your mom is dead, she says. You tell her that nobody knows that your sister is away at college and you've been answering calls from people pretending to be her. She says you must be lonely. You tell her that you haven't actually felt a whole lot since your Mom died. Then, you tell her, you started feeling things again when she started messing with you. You ask if she's still messing with you now. She tells you that she thinks she might love you. 

You kiss her on the couch in front room and then, she teaches you how to smoke out on the balcony. It takes you a while to get the hang of it because you keep choking and spluttering on the smoke but she shows you how to suck it into your lungs and blow rings like a dragon. She corrects you posture, adjusting the cigarette in your hand, and shows you how you're meant to stand. You ask if she smokes a lot. She says barely ever because it's gross. You agree. And you both wash your mouths out in your bathroom and walk down to the corner store to buy some candy to take the taste away. You sit on your balcony again. 

She fiddles with your radio until it plays the good station and eats all the blue candies because you don't like them. You eat all the red candies and ask her to tell you more about her life. She thinks about it. Then, she tells you about her Mom who drinks too much and her sister who doesn't like her at all. And about her failing grades and how she's worried that she might be crazy because her brain doesn't seem to work right. You ask what she means. She doesn't explain but you hold her hand tightly anyway and feel sad that she has to go home. 

The next day, she's not on the bus. You wonder if you're really upset her or if she's just sick. You sit beside Nepeta Leijon instead but it's not the same and you miss her. 

You thought she was staying home so you're surprised when she shows up at your locker between classes and smiles at you like you're just friends. You smile back at her. She tells you that she wishes she could kiss you right now but she doesn't want to get beat up on the way home. You nod and understand. Then, she produces a class ring from her pocket and shows it to you. It's pretty, shiny, but looks like it's been battered a few times. She tells you that she wants you to keep it and pulls a long string out of her pocket that looks like the one you keep your house key on. She threads the ring on it and turns her back to the corridor so she can tie it around your neck for you. You tuck it under your shirt and smile at her. 

She asks if you want to ditch class again but you tell her you don't want to today. She says that's fine. She asks if she'll see you later. You ask if she wants to come over and just hang out. 

"Sure." Vriska touches your hand for a fraction of a second, "I want to spend time with you, Terezi." 

"Cool." You grin at her, "I'll save your seat on the bus."


End file.
